Wrong Time, Wrong Place
by Belamancer
Summary: Life on Mars crossover. Gene has questions that Jack can't answer, the Doctor has answers to the questions that Sam can't bring himself to ask, and Rose has a crush on Chris. Rating for language and innuendo only Chapter 2 UP NOW!
1. Chapter 1

Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Part 1 The Interview

Author – Antimorph

Rating – 15 but not for sex. Sorry guys..

Summary – Dr Who/LoM X-over. Gene has questions that Jack can't answer, the Doctor has answers to the questions Sam just won't ask, and Rose has a sneaking suspicion (and a crush on Chris).

Part 1 – The Interview

Author's note – This is very slightly AU, just to make it work. Jack was rescued after the Xmas Invasion, and Sam never made that joke. Thanks for the interest and the ideas (I hadn't even thought about Genes reaction to the TARDIS!), comments and criticism appreciated, blah blah.

Oh, and this looks like it might be a long one. Sorry!

And now. Are you sitting comfortably?

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Shopping. Bloody, damned, blasted shopping. The Doctor glared at the TARDIS' doors and counted to three under his breath before shouting:"Rose! If you don't hurry up we'll leave without you!"

There was a muffled reply from the direction of the Doctor's colossal wardrobe and he sighed.

"Any luck?" asked Jack, emerging from behind the control room computers with a slightly guilty grin.

"No. This is all your fault, you know."

Jack shrugged. The Doctor was the one who'd thought it a good idea to take Rose, _and_ Jack, somewhere they could relax and get to know each other without the threat of imminent death by aliens. He'd thought it was a good idea to take them out so they could get to know the **new** him, post regeneration. The Doctor who wore brown suits and liked a bit of a joke and had a slight Scottish accent rather than the leather-jacketed manic-depressive they'd come to know and, well, know. It never was easy, after a regeneration, and it always required time to adjust. He'd thought somewhere neutral would be a good idea.

It was Jack who'd suggested the 70s. The one decade where, he was certain, nothing weird and otherworldly had happened. The Doctor hadn't bothered to correct him, and Rose had continued to look sceptical until Jack had added that fatal word.

We could go shopping, he'd said. Genuine vintage clothes at genuine seventies prices. And, he'd added, the Doctor couldn't complain. Not in that suit he couldn't.

Rose finally emerged wearing – the Doctor sighed again – 1990's imitation 70s flares, her union jack t-shirt and a scarf. Well at least the scarf was authentic, the Doctor mused. It had been his after all, although he'd ditched it along with the perm.

"Can we go now?" he asked, still irritated. Jack cleared his throat in an ominous manner. "What?"

"I might have kind of upset the navigation system when I tried that upgrade. Only a bit!" he added hurriedly as the Doctor scowled at him.

"So when are we?"

Jack shrugged, still mostly cheerful.

"1973, but we're not in London. Doesn't look like Cardiff, though."

The Doctor pushed past him to stare at the screen.

"There's more to Britain than London and Cardiff, you know. We're in Manchester."

"Oh, the soccer team, I remember." The Doctor shook his head at a lost cause.

"Looks like the back of Tibbs Street. They do have shops in Manchester, you know." he added at Rose's dissapointed expression. She grinned back.

"Well then, what're we waiting for?"

Sam was having yet another bad day. In fact, he'd had so many now that he was beginning to forget what a good day looked like, but he was willing to bet that this wasn't it. A good day didn't start with an anonymous call saying that someone was being murdered round the back of Tibbs Street. It didn't start with DCI Hunt bursting into your crappy little bedsit to shout you awake to tell you this, and to hurry the fuck up. And he was certain that a good day didn't start after a particularly nasty nightmare about a certain tv non-personality, and people crying about how he wasn't going to wake up, not ever.

And, if he was even slightly sane, he could be sure that a good day, even an alright-ish kind of a day, didn't include Ray Carling _at all_.

Ray continued to glower at him from the other side of the van. Hunt had let him come out with them today, the first time since his 'accident' with the drug dealer, and he'd made a point of telling him not to fuck it up. In front of everyone else, just so's he knew where he stood on the social ladder i.e. Right at the bottom, under everyone, even that daft lad Chris, even the plonk. _Everyone_.

And he wasn't happy about it.

"Right, we're here." Hunt announced as the van skidded to a halt. "Chris, Annie, you're with me. Tyler, you run round the other side, if anyone's still there you can head 'em off. Ray, you have the vital and important job of makin' sure no one nicks the van. Got it?" Ray glared, Sam opened his mouth to object and Gene barked "WELL?" in an extra dangerous voice. No one was stupid enough to comment.

So that was how Sam found himself running down the other end of the alley on his own. If he'd been concentrating more on what he was doing there was a wealth of interesting clues he could've picked up, but he was still practically asleep and it was only the muffled swearing coming from the other end of the alley, accompanied by Gene's angry shout that caught his attention. Obviously someone in the alley didn't want to be caught there.

Sam hurriedly flattened himself against the wall and grabbed one of the blokes as he ran past. The other skidded to a halt and ran back to help his mate but, fortunately for Sam who'd gotten a little worried at this point, by that time Gene and Chris had arrived, albeit out of breath. Sam let Gene grab the other guy and tell him he'd been arrested for suspected murder, at which they both protested, and hauled his off to the van. The little guy, the one Gene had ended up with, didn't struggle, although Gene hauled him anyway on the principle that if you've been arrested you may as well look like it. The other one stopped struggling once his mate was being taken away, for which Sam was pretty grateful.

"Present are D.C.I. Hunt and D.I. Tyler, also D.C. Skelton, that is, er, me-" Chris trailed off and gave the guv a pleading look.

"Enough, Chris. Go on." Gene added, nodding at the door. Sam suppressed an eye roll as Chris nearly walked out with the tape recorder, then remembered. The suspect, the short one in the suit, was lounging back in his chair looking altogether far too comfortable for Sam's liking, and he could tell it was only a matter of time before Gene started shouting again. Sometimes he wished that just one day, _one bloody day_ could go by without Hunt slamming some poor sod against a wall.

"So." Gene intoned ominously, glaring at the suspect the whole while. "Name?" The suspect tried a disarming grin, always a mistake with Hunt around, and shrugged.

"Most people just call me the Doctor." He was fairly well spoken, enough of a rarity around here for Sam to start paying attention, with just a hint of Scot. A bit middle-class, Sam decided.

"I asked for your **name**." Hunt was getting irritated. Sam steeled himself to interrupt if things started getting out of hand. The 'doctor' looked a bit too thoughtful for a moment before answering;

"Oh, right. Um. Howard."

Gene's eyes narrowed dangerously.

The Doctor swore mentally as the copper glared at him from across the table. He wasn't used to this! Well, alright, he'd been in similar situations, but not in this body. And he couldn't think of any names. Of anybody. Except for aliens with unpronounceable names that would just make him sound mental, or tv personalities that would be far to obvious.

The guy was still glaring and the Doctor mentally calculated how long it would take before the guy snapped. From the look of things not long at all.

"Right, yeah. Howard. Ah..." he tried to think of a name that didn't sound utterly insane, but still ended up with; "Uh, Howard Moon." he tried the grin again, but it wasn't working. The chain-smoking copper with the glare looked like he wanted to hit him, and was a gnat's arse from just reaching across the table. The younger one still looked like he'd been drinking too much coffee lately, only now he had an expression of irritated disbelief. Which quickly changed to puzzlement. Interesting, but probably not relevant, the Doctor decided. Except... Someone had said something important. He felt the familiar little nudge of intuition, a reminder that here was something odd he should be paying attention to, and dutifully paid attention.

"Well, Ah, Howard," Gene began, still to Sam's amazement pretty calm about the whole thing, "I expect you know why you're here." This was 'standard procedure' for round here, mused Sam. Let them know they've done something wrong then wait for them to tell you what it is. The annoying thing was that it worked so often.

"Not really." 'Howard' was doing quite a good job of winding the guv up; Gene now looked positively murderous, but he continued with exceptional patience;

"There was a murder, Mr Ah Howard."

Sam just hoped the guy would spot the signs before it was too late.

"Doctor." the cheeky schoolboy grin didn't fade as he corrected the near incandescent Hunt. That was it. Sam had seen the guy was stupid but he hadn't expected him to be suicidal. D.C.I. Hunt's chair screeched backwards and clattered to the floor as he leaned over the table and pulled 'Howard' out of his seat.

"I don't care," he hissed in a fury "if your name's Mickey fuckin' Mouse, but if you don't tell me what you were doing in that alley when that man was being murdered you-"

"What man?"

Sam decided that now was the time to intervene, before Gene actually ruptured something, and stood up, photos in hand.

"Kevin Donner. Tallish, blond hair. You know him?" Sam spread the photos on the table, allowing Gene a reason to dump the suspect back in his chair without making excuses. 'Howard' obediently looked down at the photos, then back up at Sam.

"Nope. Not a clue, sorry."

Hunt stood up sharply and strode out of the room, Sam following behind.

"Bloody useless. He's not letting anything go that one." the guv remarked, shutting the door. Sam shrugged.

"We could try the other one, he didn't look so ... difficult" Impossible, is what he nearly said. Like talking a blank brick wall. Gene raised an eyebrow at him.

"What, the poofter? If you want, Tyler." Sam strode off to the cells in grumpy silence. It wasn't that he couldn't think of a reply, just that he couldn't think of only **one**. And Hunt would only say it was instinct anyway.

Jack shifted uncomfortably in the interview room seat. Apparently 70's design hadn't included ergonomics or comfort. They certainly hadn't allowed for Jack, anyway, and his oddly concealed secret arsenal. He shifted position again.

"What's the matter, want me to fetch you a cushion sunshine?" Jack glared right back at the bulky, grumpy looking cop and tried to remember his training. He'd been a cop himself, admittedly a time cop, admittedly not for long (that he could remember, at least) but still, he knew a little about interviews.

"Right, what's your name?" the younger, tired looking one gave him a little resigned smile. Jack smiled back, relieved to know that he had an idea of the script. It was going to be the good cop, bad cop routine. Well, that was simple enough.

"Jack Harkness. And you?" Jack caught the flicker of annoyance that crossed the older man's face, but 'good cop' answered anyway.

"I'm D.I. Sam Tyler, this is D.C.I. Hunt. We're investigating the murder of this man." he spread some photos out on the table. "Have you seen him before?" Jack stared obediently down at the photos, then back up at the young guy's face.

"Well no, not really. Not unless you count the body in the alley." damn, damn damn. Why wasn't he concentrating on what he was saying? The older cop grinned at him nastily.

"What alley was that, Jack? Would that be the alley we caught you running away from?" Jack shrugged non-committally and tried to concentrate on the interview. Angry cop lit a cigarette and Jack watched him as he made a big show of putting the filter to his mouth. Damn. In Jack's book the only thing more attractive than the guy you can't have is the guy who knows you want him.

"Um, well. You know, we just happened to walk through." Damn that sounded lame. Even the younger one, Tyler, looked disbelieving.

"You might as well come clean. Your mate's in the next room, spilling his guts." Ah, now that was the oldest trick in the book, as far as Jack knew. And from Tyler's expression, he knew it too. And he knew that Jack knew.

Oh well, best to play along.

"My mate?"

Sam tried to keep his expression blank and resist the temptation to tell the guv he was wasting his time. Only complete idiots fell for that.

"My mate?" The guy put too much effort into sounding innocent, and Sam wondered if perhaps Hunt was actually onto something here. Certainly his instincts had been right, anyway. Jack's eyes hadn't left Hunt since the man lit his cigarette, he seemed to find it fascinating. Sam would've been insulted, but... No, don't go there. Just be happy Gene hadn't tried to rough the guy up yet.

"Yes, your mate. What was his name now..." Hunt trailed off thoughtfully, snapping his fingers. Sam shrugged, and Jack chipped in with;

"Oh, the Doctor? Doesn't sound like him." Gene gritted his teeth in frustration, and Jack decided to focus on the table instead. No, wait, that looked guilty. Try looking at the other one?

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty good at getting information out of people." Gene continued with a sidelong smirk at Tyler. Jack glanced up at the ceiling – anything to avoid Hunt's stare. The guy was way too suggestive for Jack's liking. Or rather, he did like him. That was the problem. And any more suggestions like that...

"Ah, go easy on him, guv, you know what happened last time." Tyler added, straight faced.

No, that was it, cold water time. Jack tried to concentrate on something else.

"True lad, true. But this one looks a bit sturdier than the last one. Well?" Hunt barked suddenly, making Jack jump. "What's it to be? Are you going to tell us what you were doing in that alley, or" he leaned a little closer across the table "Are things going to get ugly?"

Jack swallowed and allowed himself to glance across at Tyler. Who looked a bit like he wanted to laugh. That made Jack feel a little better. The burly cop wasn't coming onto him, he was just trying to get information out of him, to see how uncomfortable he could make him. Well, two could play at that game.

"What, me and my mate? You want to know what we were doing in that alley? Together?" Jack grinned, Hunt's eyes narrowed. This was it, the little bit of leeway Jack had left before the guy just hauled off and punched him one. He took it. "Well, uhm..." Jack looked at Tyler. He wanted to see the guy's response, and there was no way he could say this one to Hunt with a straight face.

"We were having sex."

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End of part one, part two soon-ish! What d'you think?


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Author – Antimorph

Rating – 15 but not for sex. Sorry guys...

Summary – Dr Who/LoM X-over. Gene has questions that Jack can't answer, the Doctor has answers to the questions Sam just won't ask, and Rose has a sneaking suspicion (and a crush on Chris).

Part 2 – Eavesdropping is Bad Manners

Author's note – This is very slightly AU, just to make it work. Jack was rescued after the Xmas Invasion, and Sam never made that joke.

Thanks for interest, encouragement and comments! Normally I don't do requests, but today I think I might make an exception... But no naughty stuff (unless it's also funny).

P.S. Check out my List of LoM Crossover Ideas.

And now. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.

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Sam actually managed to make it out of the interview cupboard without laughing and the urge died away when he caught Gene's expression. He looked away then, feeling guilty and said out loud:

"Should we try the other one again?"

"He's takin' the piss Tyler. Taking. The. Piss. This is a murder case and that, that-" Gene groped for a suitable descriptor.

"Poofter?" Sam interjected helpfully.

"-**bastard** is makin' it into a fuckin' **_joke_**. He thinks it's **_funny_**."

Sam shrugged. "I don't think he was involved in the murder though."

Hunt's eyes narrowed as he turned to face his D.I..

"What, you think he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time? We seem to get a lot of them with you around, Sammy-boy."

Sam opened his mouth to object and then shut it again. That was a whole other can of worms he didn't want to get into, and he was happy enough if they could go on ignoring it.

"What we need," Hunt continued thoughtfully, " is a way to get them to talk." Sam rolled his eyes.

"What, really?" and received another Hunt-bestowed glare.

"Don't try and be smart with me. We need a way to get them to talk without putting 'em on the defensive. Any ideas?"

Sam stared thoughtfully at the door to the interview/lost property cupboard for so long that the Guv decided he'd gone into another daydream.

"I said-"

"Actually, yeah." Gene looked enquiring.

"Come on, out with it then."

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It took them just forty minutes to set it all up, plus another ten for Chris to find a blank tape. They put the suspects back in the cells and sat back to wait.

"How long d'you think it'll be?" Chris asked, putting his feet up on his desk and then hurriedly taking them down again when the Guv gave his boots a pointed stare.

"How long's the tape?" Sam asked thoughtfully. There was a confused pause.

"Er, I dunno. I didn't measure it, sorry." Chris looked worried and apologetic, and Sam put his hands over his eyes.

"You wazzock. He means, how long will the tape last." Ray flicked some of his fag ash onto the carpet towards Sam's desk, hoping to annoy him.

"Oh, er, sorry. 'Bout fifty minutes?"

"Well." Gene leant back in his chair. "Looks like you've got time to finish that paperwork after all, Tyler."

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_45 minutes later... Sam was gratified to see the two men looked sheepish when he removed the tape machine from the box on the door of their cell. The Doctor caught his eye and shrugged almost apologetically, but when Hunt stepped through the door the other one, Jack, looked determinedly up at the ceiling. Having separated the two again, Sam and Gene went on to the office and set the tape machine up to play. Which it did, after some fiddling with volumes and a lot of swearing from Hunt about bloody technology. The machine hissed with static, and for a moment Sam wondered if it had picked anything up at all. Then:_

The Doctor glared at Jack, but as his regenerated form was quite short with a sort of school-boy charm to it, it didn't come across as menacingly as he'd hoped.

"This," he said, waving his hand-cuffs accusingly at Jack, "is all your fault."

"My fault? How the hell is this my fault?" Jack struggled with the handcuffs before deciding that he didn't want out of them badly enough to dislocate his thumbs.

"Shopping? Your idea. Running away? Your idea. Therefore, it must be your fault." The Doctor leaned back on the bench and put his feet up.

"Your the one who gave them a dodgy fake name. I heard the skinny one calling you Howard." Jack added, amused. The Doctor shrugged.

"That's not as bad as what I heard the one with the tache calling you." Jack shrugged.

"What does poofter mean, anyway?" He caught the smirk on the Doctor's face and sighed. "Oh, that." There was silence for a while which Jack used to pick at his cuffs again.

"So." Jack began when he could stand it no more. "What's the plan?" The Doctor leaned back some more as if the hard cold bench was the most comfortable place in the world.

"Stay here and wait." he answered smugly. Jack groaned.

"Some plan. Does Plan B involve getting these cuffs off?" The Doctor gave him look of mock surprise.

"But I thought you **liked** handcuffs."

"They have their place, I'll admit." Jack tried to scrape them off on the bench and failed. "On other people."

The Doctor frowned thoughtfully to himself , ignoring Jack, who began to get irritated.

"Listen, how about I get us out of here?"

The Doctor looked up at that.

"Oh yes? How do you plan to do that?"

Jack smirked.

"**Well**-"

"No." the Doctor cut him off suddenly.

"What? You don't even know what I was going to say!" Jack complained, much to the Doctor's amusement.

"Seducing the guards?" he suggested.

"Okay," Jack admitted "You did know what I was going to say. But why not? You think I can't?"

"I think they'll beat seven kinds of shit out of you if you try." the Doctor replied with his eyes shut.

"Huh. You think so, do you?" Jack smiled in a superior sort of way. "For your information, I think the senior officer's got a bit of a thing for me. It wouldn't be the first time." he added.

_The room went silent. Sam caught a glimpse of Gene's expression of furious concentration and ducked his head, not trusting himself to keep a straight face. He had come to the decision not so long ago that Gene Hunt worked on a knife edge, carefully balancing 1970's policing with his own vicious temper., The look he had now suggested that someone had just tipped the scales._

"The senior officer." the Doctor said flatly. "The violent one with the drink problem."

Jack frowned at him. "What makes you say that?"

"I have a nose for these things." the Doctor tapped it knowingly. "He smells of cheap whiskey. Teacher's, I think. Disgusting rot-gut, anyway."

_Gene looked up at that, too quick for Sam to avoid it, and mouthed 'Do I?' Sam shrugged and pointed at the tape machine as the voices went on._

"And the violence?" Jack sounded, and looked, as if the Doctor had personally insulted him. The Doctor shrugged. "Well, anyway." Jack continued "He likes me, so-"

"What makes you think that?"

"In the interview, he was-"

"Oh, in the interview. Oh right, how romantic. In the interview." The Doctor sounded supremely unconvinced.

"Wait a minute, just what are you trying to say?"

The Doctor sighed. "He's a policeman, right? A copper."

"Cop. Right."

"He's a copper first, understand? No matter what else he is, I don't know, but he really is a copper. The genuine vintage 1973 real McCoy."

"And?"

"And the whole purpose of an interview is to make you confess to the crime. People who aren't guilty don't confess, right? SO if he can put you off guard..."

"Oh God." Jack put his head in his hands. "What is this, the dark ages?"

The Doctor laughed to himself.

"No, it's the brown ages. It's the seventies, what do you expect?"

"I don't know." Jack admitted. "But this isn't it. Crap."

"No harm done." The Doctor dismissed it airily. "We should be fine, provided you didn't give him a reason to keep us here."

There was a telling silence.

"Jack," the Doctor said warningly, "What did you tell him?"

"Well. He kind of kept asking me what we were doing in the alley, if we didn't seeing the dead guy?" Jack swallowed nervously at the Doctor's expression. "I might have told them we were having sex."

"In an alley."

"Sort of."

"In public. Oh, that's just great. There's at least three laws against that that I know of, and I'll just bet they'll be able to find more. Fantastic. You, Jack Harkness, are an idiot." The Doctor lay back on the stone slab in defeat.

Jack twiddled his thumbs for a minute.

"I'm sorry-" he tried

"I'm thinking." The Doctor snapped back. "With my brain. You should try it some time."

There was silence. Then;

"Well, what am I supposed to do whilst you're coming up with the master plan?"

"Amuse yourself, why don't you." The Doctor sounded more amused than really annoyed, so Jack decided to push his luck.

"How? My hands are tied." he grinned at the Doctor's exasperated expression.

"I don't know! Play I-spy, sing a song, do whatever you like! Just stop bothering me."

Jack nodded and began to sing under his breath. The Doctor ignored him. Frowning in concentration, Jack raised the volume a little.

"-carrot and coriander chilli chowder! Croutons! Croutons! Crunchy friends of the liquid broth! I like gazpacho oh! I-"

The Doctor opened his eyes and sat up suddenly.

"Got it!" Jack gave him a startled look.

"Got what?"

"Someone told me something important and I think I just remembered what it is!" Jack made a 'well go on' gesture. "D.I. Tyler!"

_Listening to the tape, Sam jumped when he heard the Doctor person shout his name. He looked round the office briefly, just in case this was on of those things only he could hear, and caught the Guv's eye, who shrugged. Probably it was. He was pretty sure that none else had heard the 'Soup Song', and 100 certain that no one would recognise it if they had._

Jack frowned, puzzled. "Who's D.I. Tyler?"

"The skinny one. The one who looks like he doesn't get enough sleep." The Doctor got up and began pacing the floor.

"What about him?" Jack sat up, his interest piqued.

"Not sure." The Doctor frowned. "There's something about him."

"If you say so." Jack shrugged.

"He seems out of place. You know who he reminds me of?" he said suddenly, snapping his fingers.

"No?" Jack looked, and sounded bewildered, and the Doctor shrugged apologetically.

"Did Rose ever tell you about the time we went to see her dad?" Jack shook his head. "Well, anyway. This Tyler, he reminds of him. I don't know. It's probably nothing." He shrugged, stopped pacing and sat down again.

"He reminds me of you." Jack said thoughtfully, winning a deliberately neutral expression from the Doctor. "When we first met." Jack elaborated. "I knew there was something odd about you. And Rose. You just looked-"

"Out of place?"

"Out of time. Just wrong, you know? And you sounded wrong. That Tyler, he sticks out a mile. I mean, I don't know much about the Seventies-"

"You're not missing much." The Doctor interjected

"-maybe I'm wrong. But I don't think so." Jack shrugged and stretched out. Then straightened up suddenly. "Do you think Rose is okay?"

"She'll be fine."The Doctor didn't sound 100 convinced. "Rose." he repeated thoughtfully.

"Thinking again?"

"Remember last time we took Rose to see her mum? She was on the phone to some aunt, or somebody-"

"Sister in law." corrected Jack.

"She said Rose's cousin had been in some sort of accident, didn't she?" The Doctor looked questioningly at Jack, who shrugged.

"I think it was a car accident, but what-"

"I'm sure he was called Sam." The Doctor grinned. "Sam Tyler."

_Sam sat up straight and reached forwards to the tape machine in one sudden movement. The Guv slapped his hand away from the rewind button, and as Sam stared at him, unnerved, slightly panicked and uncertain he saw his own disbelief reflected in Hunt's eyes. Clearly, he wasn't the only one hearing this. The Guv put a finger to his lips as the tape continued._

"I remember that, didn't she say he was in a coma?" Jack sounded excited, now it looked like they were getting somewhere. Of course where they were getting was another matter entirely. The Doctor grinned again.

"Want to know the weirdest bit?" Jack nodded impatiently "He was a policeman. In Manchester."

"Same age?" asked Jack. The Doctor nodded.

"I think so. Rose said she'd never seen him. It just seems too much of a coincidence. I don't like coincidences."

Jack shook his head. "No. Got any ideas?"

"On what?"

Jack groaned in frustration. "On this whole thing! Come on, you don't think he's really a time traveller, do you?"

_The room had gone silent, everybody frozen in position unable to believe what they'd just heard. Sam stared fixedly at the tape machine, hoping that somehow something would begin to make sense._

The Doctor shrugged. "Why not? The question is, who brought him here, and why?"

"And where from." Jack added helpfully.

"If that was him, if he is Rose's cousin then he was in a coma when we left there's no reason not to assume that he was taken from there."

"What, 2006 **again**?"

_There was a crash as Ray accidentally knocked his cup off the desk and failed to retrieve it in time, but Sam didn't hear it. The words that passed between this mysterious 'Doctor' and Jack were spinning round and round in his head. He hadn't imagined it, he wasn't going mad. If he wasn't in a coma, this meant that he might actually get some clue as to what the hell was going on. And if he was, maybe he was about to wake up. He stood quickly and was restrained, none too gently, by Gene's heavy hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even seen him stand up._

"_I'm not about to try and stop you, Tyler, I'm not a bloody idiot." Sam nodded at him shortly as Hunt let him go. "But I want to hear what he says."_

"_Good." Sam snapped, just a little of the stress showing. "Because he's **going** to talk."_

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Short and sweet, this one. Stay tuned for the next instalment, in which we find out what the heck happened to Rose all this time, and Annie has to baby-sit. Apologies for the delay and all that, but Rose is a bit of a pain to write.


End file.
